i found love (i'll use you as a warning sign)
by DaughterOfPoseidon333
Summary: "He tried not to think about Natasha's bruises, or about the fact that every time she left him, it felt closer and closer to the last time". Part 2 of i don't know why (we break so hard) series. No Civil War spoilers
**So, I should be studying. I have finals starting tomorrow. But alas, I had Civil War feels. And SteveNat feels. So here we are. Plus, so many of you liked the last one I did, and I had more ideas to write, so I decided to make a little series out of it. A lot of people requested Steve seeing Nat's bruises so that's what this is! Yay more angst!**

 **Title of work from Amber Run's "I Found"**

 **Title of series taken from "Let it all go" by Birdy and Rhodes**

 **I'd be glad to take more requests/ideas for what you guys would like to see if you so wish, just leave them spoiler free right now if you have seen the movie. Please. I don't want to be spoiled.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-:-**

Steve took a deep breath. For the past couple of hours the New Avengers facility—hell, the whole world—was bustling with activity. Bucky's attack on the Avengers was, of course, all over the news, controversy and debates already arising. Some of them happening right under his nose at the facility. He wasn't surprised. The Avengers were not only a major topic of discussion due to the Superhero Registration Act, but now, today, the Avengers had come back battered after facing off against Bucky so the base was buzzing with gossip.

Maria had been a huge help in keeping everything under control as Steve managed the Avengers and made sure they all got down to the med level to get checked out. Sharon, once she was checked out with nothing more than a few major bruises, teamed up with Maria and they got the agents and recruits under control, sending them back to their posts as the Avengers dealt with what had just happened. Steve was still trying to process as well.

Bucky clearly hadn't been himself, and now he was in the wind again, and Steve hated the feeling of knowing that he'd, once again, let his best friend slip through his fingers. First the train, in 1945… _he would never forget the train…could still hear Bucky's scream as he fell…_ then there was D.C. And now this. They'd been _so close._ So close to bringing him home. And now not only was Steve looking for him, but the whole damn world.

Steve shut the door to his room on base, relishing in the silence as he let out a sigh. He needed a shower, something to eat. The doctors had wanted him to go down to medical like everyone else, but he'd refused, needing to get his base and his team under control. He needed to feel like he could do something right. He—

A knock sounded on his door and Steve froze. A second later he relaxed, bracing himself to speak to an agent or someone else who needed something. He was, after all, the leader. But when he opened the door to his room, it was Natasha who was standing there, dressed in the same thing she'd been in earlier. She looked tired. He could relate.

"Can I come in?" she asked softly.

Steve nodded, stepping aside, then shutting the door behind her.

"Hill's looking for you again. There's some documents or forms or something she needs you to sign off on," Natasha started, before biting her lip.

Steve gave her a look. "That's it?"

She exhaled slowly. "No. I came to check up on you. I know that having Bucky so close and then….I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine."

Now it was her turn to give him a look, one delicate brow raised skeptically. "Steve."

"Show me."

"What?"

Steve met her gaze. "You know what I'm talking about," he whispered. "Show me."

A pause. Then Natasha pushed her hair over her shoulders. It was so long now and he constantly got the urge to run his fingers through it. But that wasn't the focus. His eyes immediately dropped to her neck, where angry purple bruises— _so clearly a hand—_ were painted across her throat. Natasha stood still as he stepped towards her, his hand twitching upwards just the slightest as if to reach out to her. Steve swallowed hard, balling his hands into fists instead, trying to contain his anger. Not so much anger at Bucky, because Bucky hadn't been _Bucky_. No, he was angry at himself, for letting this happen to her.

So focused on the marks covering her neck, he didn't realize she'd reached out until one of her hands was smoothing over his, easing the tension. His fingers fell out of their fist, tangling in hers instead. With his other hand, he actually reached up this time, the pads of his fingers just barley skimming over her skin.

Natasha sucked in a breath, and he pulled back instantly, pulling his hand from hers, taking a step back. "Natasha, I… _I'm so sorry,_ " he choked, finally meeting her eyes again.

"It's okay," she soothed. "I'm okay. Really. I've had worse, you know that."

"But this…he…he's my friend and I let him hurt you."

"You didn't _let_ him do anything, Steve," she said. Her voice was firm, but there was something else there too, the tiniest of tremors.

Steve's heart clenched tight in his chest. He felt like he was caving in. He wasn't sure it was audible when he spoke, "You're afraid of him."

Natasha blinked, considering his words. She took a step towards him, taking his hand into hers again. She met his eyes and he forced himself to look at her face and not her neck. "Bucky Barnes doesn't scare me," she told him quietly. "The Winter Soldier _does._ But in that moment, when he attacked me, us, he wasn't Bucky. That was the assassin. The thing they turned him into. So it wasn't his fault, and it certainly isn't yours."

Steve wasn't convinced, not when his guilt was pressing down on him so heavily. Natasha reached up with her other hand, smoothing her thumb in between his eyebrows where it was surely creased with worry.

"You know," she teased as he relaxed under her touch, "if it weren't for that serum of yours you'd have about a _million_ worry lines, old man."

Steve chuckled softly, some of the tension releasing from his shoulders. He looked up at her from underneath his lashes. He wanted to kiss her. They were so close, all he'd have to do is lean in and touch his mouth to hers. But he didn't do that. He wanted to ask her if she trusted him, if she believed in him, in what he was trying to do. But her answer scared him, so he didn't do that either.

Sensing that he was about to step back, Natasha pulled away first. He wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. The comforting smile she gave him told him it was the former.

"Hill still needs you," she said.

Steve nodded.

As she was turning to leave, Natasha looked back at him. "Hey, this is all going to work out, okay? One way or another."

"Yeah," Steve replied, trying to sound like he meant it, but it was hard when his gaze caught on her bruises again.

Natasha left, and as Steve steeled himself to go find Hill and try to stop this war before it happened, he tried not to think about Natasha's bruises, or about the fact that every time she left him, it felt closer and closer to the last time.


End file.
